Caught in the Middle: Part II
by Sparkiebunny
Summary: The team, especially Tony, is in peril again, as their struggle against Aram Salir comes to a head. SEQUEL TO "CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE"
1. Chapter 1

**AN1: *Whew* Sorry for the wait! This story is fighting me all the way. Hopefully the rest will come easier, but because of the super-supportive feedback from so many wonderful people, I simply had to give you all something! Thanks for the support! I hope you enjoy!**

**AN2: In order to understand, you must read the story that precedes this, "Caught in the Middle".**

* * *

…

"_This isn't over, Gibbs…He's still out there."_

…

Gibbs took a deep breath and regained his composure. In the span of 22 seconds, the world had been turned upside-down by the very man Gibbs thought was out of the picture. Or at least had hoped was out of the picture. Now it was beginning all over again, and he felt completely powerless to stop it. Damn it if Gibbs didn't feel like a lost child, vulnerable, exposed, helpless.

After a few seconds, the expression of shock on Gibbs's face was replaced by one of determination. He was NOT going to let Salir get away. The man who kidnapped and tortured his agent would pay for what he did. Gibbs would see to that. With a sense of authority in his gait, Gibbs walked down the hall.

He walked quietly into Tony's room, making sure nothing was disturbed. Throwing cautious glances in all directions, he stood stoically at the end of the bed, examining the agent. Tony's slumber persisted, leaving him blissfully unaware of the horrible turn things had taken. Gibbs stared at the man before him, taking in the pale complexion and lines of pain on his face. In that moment, he made a silent promise to both himself and his agent. _I'll get him. I'm going to get that bastard._ Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from Tony and began walking out the door.

As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he flagged down a doctor. The man in the white coat came over quickly, opening his mouth questioningly. But before a word escaped, Gibbs ordered sternly, "We need a security guard outside this room until I sent up one of my agents to keep watch. Mr. DiNozzo is to be constantly supervised until then, no exceptions. Understood?"

The nervous young doctor nodded and jogged down the hallway to get the attention of the floor's security guard. After a few moments, he appeared in front of Gibbs once more, a burly middle-aged man behind him. Gibbs nodded his approval and began walking purposefully toward the waiting room.

He walked into the small area, a solemn look on his face. Instinctively, the group looked up. Seeing the look in Gibbs's eyes, Abby stood immediately.

"Gibbs? What's wrong?" she asked nervously. "Is it Tony? Oh my God, did his fever spike again?"

Gibbs sighed. "Tony's fine, Abs. Well, about as fine as he can be. But I got a message from Fornell…Something's happened. I think you should sit."

Ziva narrowed her eyes, sensing the foreboding in Gibb's words. "What did Fornell say? Is it about Salir?" she asked tightly.

Gibbs looked at the ground for a moment, before raising his eyes to the agents. "Yeah. Somehow, the bastard got away."

Abby gasped. McGee went pale. Ziva stood still as a statue, willing herself to find the strength to remain upright. Gibbs continued wearily. "We don't know how yet, but Fornell and his team are working on it. I just got the message and now I have to call Fornell back."

McGee's bewildered eyes flicked from side to side, his mind obviously trying to comprehend what he'd just been told. "But I thought…that doesn't make sense! You knocked him out, Boss! And the area was surrounded. There's no way he could've run out of there, even if he was conscious. How? I don't…It doesn't make sense…" he trailed off.

"I know, McGee. I'm calling Fornell now for details, but I need you and Ziva to watch DiNozzo. Odds are, with his sources, Salir knows he's here. My bet is that he wants DiNozzo to pay for ruining his op. I don't know if he's planning anything, but just in case, I want someone with him at all times, at least until we can get a federal guard posted outside his room. Got that?"

"Yes, Boss," Ziva and McGee replied. They walked to Tony's room, leaving Gibbs to face Abby. Ducky and Palmer had gone home an hour ago- albeit reluctantly. But Abby had refused to budge.

Brilliant green eyes stared at Gibbs in fear and disbelief. "This isn't fair. Tony's been through enough today. We _all_ have. This shouldn't be happening. How can this-"

Gibbs silenced her with a warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding the position for a few moments, letting her tears stain his shirt. After a little while, Abby pushed herself off Gibbs, wiping her eyes.

"You need to call Fornell and find out what we can do to get Salir."

"You gonna be alright?"

Abby straightened her back in her best Gibbs imitation. "Not if you don't get out of here and call Fornell. _Now_," she said with a fake scowl. The corners of Gibbs's mouth twitched. "Good girl, Abs."

**. . .**

Flashing their badges at the security guard, Ziva and McGee entered Tony's room, both silent as the gravity of what they'd just been told weighed on them. Tony was asleep. The only movement in the room was the small rise and fall of his chest. Occasionally, pain would flicker across his features, but for the most part he seemed to be resting comfortably.

After a few brief moments, Ziva muttered to McGee, "I just do not understand how this can be happening. Gibbs said Salir was unconscious. I figured by now the FBI would have him under lock and door!"

"Lock and _key_," McGee corrected. They both inwardly cringed at the correction…That was something Tony should be saying. "But yeah, I don't understand it either. Let's just hope Gibbs gets the info we need, so we can find Salir before…" They looked at Tony, neither able to finish the thought that was nagging them.

"No one is going to hurt Tony, McGee," Ziva declared adamantly. Turning to Tony, she said softly to him, "We will not let them." Though neither McGee nor Ziva spoke, both agents knew the statement was for their benefit as well as their friend's.

**. . .**

Gibbs walked out of the hospital and pulled out his phone. He quickly dialed Fornell's number. After one ring, a gruff voice answered, "Fornell."

"What the hell is going on, Tobias?" Gibbs said angrily.

"I wish I knew. My men have scoured the area. Salir's gone. We found some blood residue on the floor of the storage garage, but that's all. What happened, Jethro?"

"I knocked the bastard out! I slammed my gun into his damn head and watched him fall. I'm telling you, he was out cold. Without a doubt."

The voice on the other end of the line sighed. "I believe you, Jethro. It's just that things aren't adding up. Salir couldn't possibly have gotten out of there on foot, conscious or not. Which means…Well, there's no pleasant way to say this…"

The hesitancy in Fornell's voice irritated Gibbs. "Just tell me, dammit! We don't have time for guessing games!"

Fornell took a moment before responding. "Well, Jethro, I think we need to start exploring the possibility that…" He paused a moment. "That Salir has an accomplice."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks for the reviews! They're appreciated, as always! :)**

* * *

Gibbs blinked slowly.

"Jethro, you there?" Fornell questioned.

After releasing a deep breath, Gibbs said, "Yeah, I'm here. So what do we do now?"

"Well, first we need to get some guards posted outside DiNozzo's room. I'll send you two of my agents. Salir would be stupid to try anything, but you never know. Then, I think you and your team should get down here. That is, assuming you want to lead the investigation…"

"You're damn right I'm leading the investigation. We'll leave as soon as your agents arrive. Talk you to later, Tobias."

"See you soon," Fornell replied.

Gibbs snapped his phone shut and walked toward the hospital doors, on his way to debrief the team on the new information.

**. . .**

McGee stood abruptly as a man in a white coat walked through the door of Tony's room. The man was tall, with dark hair, and even darker eyes, speckled with green crystals. As he moved into the room, reaching his arm out to grab Tony's chart, Ziva's arm flew from Tony's hand, gripping the doctor's wrist.

The man's eyes widened with surprise. He took a step back, lifting his hands in mock-surrender. "My name is Dr. Tannin. I just need to look at his chart," the man said, with a nearly undetectable middle-eastern accent. "We may need to change his antibiotics if his body isn't responding quickly enough."

Ziva's eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding the chocolate brown. "You have credentials, yes? A badge?"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small laminated card. It was complete with a picture of himself, the name of the hospital, rank, etc. Ziva and McGee both looked at each other, shrugging imperceptibly. A simple message passed between them. _Looks good to me._

"You may examine him," Ziva said briskly, re-seating herself in the chair next to the bed. McGee stood to the side.

"Um, typically the family leaves for this portion of the examination," the man said uncomfortably.

"We are not leaving," Ziva stated simply.

Sighing, he carefully peeled back Tony's gown and gently probed the stomach wound. He continued his ministrations for a few minutes, before saying, "The wound looks ok to me. I'm just going to give him a light sedative to relieve the discomfort."

Ziva and McGee saw no reason to object, so the man continued, "Let me just get the supplies. I'll be back in a moment." He exited the room quietly.

McGee sighed. "Do you think Salir's men will come after him tonight?"

"I do not know. They very well could, but I sincerely hope they do not. Or if they do, that I am here to show them a piece of my mind," Ziva replied darkly.

"_Give_ them a piece of your mind," McGee said, no real heart in the correction.

The two were silent for a few seconds, before Dr. Tannin returned with a small syringe. He swiftly inserted the needle into Tony's IV, pushing down the plunger and watching the drugs ease their way into Tony's system.

"That should do," he said. "I'll be back later to see how that's working. Let me know if you need anything."

The agents nodded their thanks and turned their attention back to their fallen friend.

This motion, this slight shift in concentration, drew their notice away from the man in the white coat, who couldn't hold back a sly smile. He turned out of the room, evilly relishing in his ability to manipulate, and grateful for his extremely effective poker face.

**. . .**

Gibbs turned the corner just in time to see a tall doctor stroll out, a strange smirk on his face. Quickening his pace, Gibbs entered the room, peering over his shoulder. "Who was that?" he asked, still staring at the doorway.

"Dr. Tannin," McGee replied. "He just came in to check on Tony."

Gibbs shrugged off the foreboding in the pit of his stomach and began to tell the team about the latest update on Salir, when Abby walked in, Caf-Pow in hand.

"Anything new?" she asked, slurping her drink. Gibbs started from the beginning, telling them what Fornell had told him.

They all reacted to the news quite well. "I knew there was something we were missing," McGee muttered. "Any idea who it is yet?"

"Not yet," Gibbs replied. "But we're damn well gonna find out. I told Fornell we were taking the case. As soon as his men arrive to watch DiNozzo, we can head to the warehouse and investigate."

His agents nodded in agreement, and the group stood in silence for a few moments, watching Tony sleep.

A knock at the door made them all jump. Everyone looked to the door, where two men were standing attentively, one of them speaking before entering the room.

"Agent Gibbs? My name's Agent McClain and this is Agent Larson. We're assigned to Agent DiNozzo's protection detail for the time being." The men pulled out their badges and flashed them at Gibbs, who examined both briefly before nodding.

Agent McClain stuck his hand out, and Gibbs took it. Then, he pulled the arm toward him, putting his mouth right next to the agent's ear. "Anything happens to him under your watch, and there'll be hell to pay. We clear?" he murmured threateningly.

McClain went stony faced, and nodded, completely serious.

"Good," Gibbs said. Then turning to the team, he said, "Let's go. Abby, you staying here?"

The Goth nodded, taking Ziva's seat next to the bed. "I wanna be here when he wakes up," she said, appraising the sleeping man with affection.

Gibbs gave Abby a one-armed hug and left the room, McGee and Ziva following suit.

**. . .**

"All we have to go on is the blood in the warehouse and these skid marks," Fornell said, motioning to the black tire tracks on the pavement.

Gibbs knelt down and examined the marks, while Ziva and McGee snapped photos of the scene.

"We might be able to use these to narrow down the vehicle type and model for a BOLO," McGee said. "If Abby scans the image and gets a brand, we can check for purchases in the last 6-12 months."

Nodding, Gibbs said, "Ziva, get a sample of the blood for Abby. McGee, let's keep looking."

**. . .**

Abby frowned, leaning forward in her chair. _It seems weird that he still hasn't woken up_, she thought to herself worriedly.

She laid her hand against his forehead, noting the heat that met her hand. Knowing an infection could be very dangerous for her friend, she debated about calling in a nurse. _It might be nothing_. As she wrestled with the decision, Tony's heart monitor began to speed up.

"Tony?" Abby questioned, hoping it was a signal of him waking up. The other two agents looked at each other curiously.

"Should we get a doctor?" Agent Larson asked. Abby responded distantly, still focused on Tony's face, "Not yet. Give him a minute."

Tony's heart rate continued to climb to a dangerous level, machines beeping wildly. Without warning, his body began convulsing violently. His limbs thrashed about on the bed as his body shook uncontrollably.

Agent Larson and Agent McClain looked at each other, panic in their eyes, as Abby stared, horrified, at her ailing friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks, once again, for the support. It's super-encouraging and all that's keeping the story going at this point. Thanks!**

* * *

Abby cried out, about to yell for a doctor, when a tall, dark-haired man jogged in, clad in a white coat. His badge was hanging loosely from his pocket. Abby squinted her eyes to see the writing. It read 'Dr. Tannin' with a small picture of him.

"He just started shaking," Abby cried hysterically. "What's going on?"

The man ignored her, injecting some kind of medication into Tony's IV. After a few moments, Tony's body stilled and his heart rate returned to normal.

The man turned to Abby and spoke. "It appears Mr. DiNozzo has suffered a seizure, which could indicate swelling and/or a bleed in the brain." _It's amazing how people will trust you as soon as you put on a white coat_, he thought to himself with glee. "I'm going to need to take him for an MRI so we can find out exactly what's going on."

Immediately, Agent Larson and Agent McClain stood. "We have to come with you," said McClain.

The man let out a sigh. "Fine, but time is of the essence, so you'd better keep up."

With that, the doctor wheeled Tony's bed quickly down the hall and both agents followed, leaving Abby standing in the middle of the room, tears filling her eyes.

As soon as the group was out of sight, Abby pulled out her phone and dialed Gibbs's number.

**. . .**

"You get the sample, Ziva?" Gibbs called out briskly. Ziva held up the small vile of blood and nodded.

"I think that's-" Gibb's sentence was interrupted by the shrill ring of his phone. He snatched it up and opened it. "Gibbs."

After a few seconds, his brow furrowed. "Whoa, slow down, Abs. Where is Tony now?...Ok, we'll be right there." He shut the phone and turned to McGee and Ziva.

"What's going on, Boss?" McGee questioned.

"DiNozzo had some kind of seizure. They just took him for tests. Something doesn't feel right, though. Let's go."

With that, the group was off, racing toward the hospital at a speed which turned McGee green and would've had Ziva grinning if she wasn't so worried about her partner.

**. . .**

The man wheeling Tony's bed cursed softly. He hadn't planned on the agents accompanying him. He'd have to find a way to get rid of them.

He quickly wheeled Tony down the hall and through a set of doors which led to a darkened room. The two agents looked at each other questioningly, but neither said anything.

"I'll go hit the lights," the man said, moving behind the agents. "Just keep an eye on Mr. DiNozzo."

Agent Larson and Agent McClain both nodded and turned their backs to the man, watching Tony protectively. Then, without warning, Larson fell boneless to the ground.

"What the-" McClain began, but was cut off by a blinding pain to the back of his head, before he, too, fell unconscious to the floor.

"Problem solved," the man said to the silent room. He dropped the small scanner to the ground and peeled off this gloves, depositing them in the trash can nearby. He then swiftly turned on the lights and maneuvered Tony into a wheelchair. With a last look at the unconscious agents, he flipped the light switch and wheeled Tony down the hall, out the back hospital doors, and into his awaiting vehicle.

_That_, He thought with satisfaction, as he revved the car's engine, _was just too easy_.

**. . .**

"Where is he, Abs?" Gibbs asked, storming into the empty room. He was followed closely by Ziva and McGee. Abby was seated in the chair, knees pulled up to her chest.

"They still haven't brought him back yet. Well, not _they…he_. It was just this one doctor-Takkin, Tarrin-something like that."

Ziva and McGee looked at each other darkly. McGee spoke cautiously. "Tannin?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah, that's what it was. How did you know?"

"He came in before to check on Tony. Gave him some injection to 'help with the discomfort'."

"Did you check his credentials?" Gibbs asked angrily. "Did he show you a badge?"

Both agents flinched at their boss's anger. "Well," McGee stuttered. "We, ah, looked at his badge. It looked pretty…ok….I mean, nothing obviously wrong with it or anything."

Gibbs was fuming. "Well of course it _looked_ fine, McGee. Fake IDs usually do! Did you scan his name? Ask the staff? _Anything_?"

"No, Boss," McGee said with defeat. He and Ziva both had their eyes glued to the ground.

"Goddammit," Gibbs muttered. He shook his head and stormed out of the room.

**. . .**

Gibbs knelt down, running his fingers over the tire tracks on the ground. After the initial realization that Tony was –once again- missing, the team had turned the hospital upside down, searching every room and opening every door. Finally, they stumbled into the pitch black room that held the two unconscious FBI agents. After following a small trail down the hallway, they'd discovered the hospital's back door, still slightly ajar, and fresh skid marks right outside.

"Get a picture of the marks," Gibbs said roughly. The agents went into action, processing the scene thoroughly.

_Where are you now, Tony?_ Gibbs thought sadly.

**. . .**

Tony blinked his eyes as he drifted back to consciousness. The peaceful calm of drug-induced slumber slowly peeled away, alerting him of his surroundings. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he immediately knew that he was no longer in the hospital. The solid hardness beneath his aching back told him he was lying on a rigid, concrete surface, most likely a floor. The dank, cold humidity gave the room a musty scent. _Smells like Gibbs's basement_, Tony thought. _Minus the bourbon and wood shavings._

His entire body felt heavy and each attempted movement revealed a new ache. His skin tingled uncomfortably, from his face to his toes. His limbs refused to execute his commands, instead choosing to weakly twitch and slide against the ground, moving methodically with each small spurt of energy. As far as he could tell, however, he was unrestrained, and gratefully so. After a few minutes of sluggish squirming, Tony was able to sit up, ignoring the throbbing pain radiating from his abdomen. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness surrounding him, and he could vaguely recognize outlines in the room. There were stairs leading to a door on the left side of the room. _Definitely some kind of basement or cellar_, Tony thought.

"Glad to see you're awake," drawled an eerie voice behind Tony. Whipping his head around, Tony came face-to-face with a tall, lean middle-eastern man, dressed elegantly in an Armani suit and dress shoes. His dark eyes, speckled with green flecks, sparkled treacherously. "How are you feeling?"

"Stellar, and you?" Tony replied sarcastically. He tensed his body in anticipation for some sort of blow, but none came. Instead, the man before him simply chuckled.

"My cousin was correct about you, Mr. DiNozzo. You have quite the personality."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Your cousin? What is this, revenge? Did I date your cousin or something? I mean, I know hell lath no fury like a woman scorned, but I'd never realized that psychotic cousins filled the deed as well. Pretty strange if you think about it. A little too Fatal Attraction if you as-"

Tony was cut off by a swift backhand which left his check stinging.

"My cousin is Aram Salir," the man said. Tony's face lost all air of light-heartedness. "And this is not revenge, Mr. DiNozzo. I simply want to clear up some loose ends that my _dear cousin_ left behind." The statement was accompanied by an annoyed growl.

_Apparently things aren't so hunky-dory in the Addams Family household_, Tony thought to himself.

"I think we have yet to be formally introduced. My name is Jarib. Although your friends probably know me as 'Dr. Tannin'." The man chuckled lightly. "It's a bit pathetic how easily they were deceived. But back to the point. Aram is my distant relative…unfortunately. He was always the 'dark horse' of the family. I believe that's what they say in America. Anyway, it seems he was careless in his dealings with you. And what else are elder relatives for than to clean up the little ones' messes?"

"So what exactly is gonna happen here?" Tony asked, masking his uncertainty with confidence. "You think you're gonna kill me? Torture me for information? What information could you possibly want anyway?" He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Oh, no, we aren't going to torture you, DiNozzo. In your present condition," Jarib said, surveying Tony's weak, trembling body, "You wouldn't last long enough anyway."

"You'd be surprised," Tony muttered.

"Yes…" Jarib said distastefully. "No matter. We are only keeping you here long enough to find out what exactly your 'team' knows of my cousin and his operations."

"And you think you're just going to keep me here? My team'll break me out in no time. You haven't even tied me up! Oh…are you new at this?" Tony laced his voice in sarcasm. "Because if you're having too much trouble, you could always ask your _cousin_. He seems real studied on the matter. Although I guess the execution was a little sloppy, you know, with me being _alive_ and all."

Jarib just smiled. "No, Mr. DiNozzo, I have my own technique when it comes to keeping you here." He flicked his wrist, and suddenly, two large men were at Tony's side. "Just try to muffle your screams…We don't want to wake the neighbors, now, do we?"

Tony had no time to respond, as a leather belt was shoved in his mouth. The two men held him down by his shoulders and thighs as Jarib grabbed a block of wood from the table behind him and shoved it between Tony's legs, right above the ankles.

Tony's eyes widened as Jarib reached for the sledgehammer leaning against the table. _No, no, no, no…this can't be happening…_

"You can't be serious, right?" Tony asked shakily, voice slightly muffled by the belt in his mouth. "I mean, I've always dug movie re-enactments, but you're no Kathy Bates." He smirked from beneath the belt, hopeful that Jarib would have a last-second change of heart. No such luck.

Swinging the sledgehammer behind him like a baseball bat, Jarib smiled grimly. "I suggest you bite down," he said simply. Then, with an almighty heave, he swung the sledgehammer swiftly into Tony's left foot.

A sickening crack bounced off the walls, only overshadowed by Tony's piercing scream. Agony exploded from his body like a volcano. Waves of pain flowed like magma, radiating from his leg to his brainstem, and everywhere in between. He was in hell, plain and simple.

After a minute or so, the pain receded to a white-hot knife, as opposed to a mine explosion in his leg. Through the painful haze, Tony saw Jarib's face, grinning mercilessly. He wanted to throw up.

"So," Jarib said sweetly. "Are we ready for the next?"

The sound Tony released was somewhere between a strangled sob and a growl.

"I'll take that as a yes," Jarib said. And with that, he swung the sledgehammer around once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN1: Your reviews continue to inspire, keeping my muse hanging by a thread. Thank you so much. It's dearly appreciated!**

**AN2: It's just past midnight, making this July 2****nd****. July 3****rd**** is a VERY special day!**

**Yes, ladies and gents, tomorrow is Sparkie's Birthday! She'll have been alive for exactly 15 years tomorrow. Isn't it astounding? Life really does pass you by…So HAPPY (early) BIRTHDAY, SPARKIE! :D**

* * *

"Anything on the skid marks yet, Abs?" Gibbs asked impatiently.

Abby shook her head. "A few more minutes." The two fell silent, along with the rest of the team, all seated in the lab, awaiting what could possibly their only lead.

_How can this be happening all over again? _McGee mused. _We were right there. Right. There. The son of a bitch was right in front of us, and we didn't even realize_. _God only knows what he's doing to Tony now._

_It is our fault, _Ziva thought to herself_. It is MY fault. I should have been more thorough. That man should never have been let into Tony's room. But I allowed him in, and allowed him to touch Tony and medicate him. How could I have been so naïve? And now Tony must pay for my stupidity…possibly with his life. God, I hope we get to him in time…_

Abby tapped her heel nervously. _Please hurry_, she begged her machine. _Tony doesn't have much time. He was in bad enough shape as is, plus I'm pretty sure I felt a fever. Well, I don't know if you can feel a fever, but his forehead was hot. I mean, like his temperature, not his looks. Though Tony is pretty hot. I suppose his forehead would be included since it's part of Tony, and Tony's hot, so therefore his forehead is hot. Transitive property and all that. McGee would be so proud of me…But if he has a fever, it means he probably has an infection, which is REALLY not good…_

_Dammit, DiNozzo, when are you gonna make things easy for us? _Gibbs thought frustratedly.

Everyone was jerked from their inner musings by the loud beep of Abby's machine. She ran to it quickly, fingers flying across the keys and eyes rapidly scanning the screen.

"Tire tracks were traced to a unique brand which is mainly compatible with the 1975 Damlier Sedan. It's a really rare foreign car. I checked the imports from the last 6 months, and there's only been one, registered to a 'Jarib Tannin'," Abby said.

"The cocky bastard gave us his name," Gibbs growled.

"But what is the connection between this man and Salir?" Ziva questioned.

McGee stepped up to the computer and began working some electronic magic. After a few seconds of rapid typing, he stilled. "He's Salir's distant cousin by marriage," he said quietly. "His stepmother's sister had two children, Aram and Tiran. As we know, Tiran was killed in the weapons deal a few months back. So Salir isn't a blood relative, but the records show them working together in a fair amount of their 'business' deals."

"Damn," Gibbs muttered. He blew out a breath before barking, "Put out a BOLO."

. . .

Tony groaned as consciousness crept up on him. As soon as the sledgehammer had made contact for the second time, he'd passed out cold. _Whoa_, he thought. _I feel…hot…_ The burning heat and perspiration all over his body was making his head pound in time with his throbbing stomach.

As he shifted gently, a small whimper escaped him. Biting his lip, Tony pushed himself up, gingerly massaging his abdomen. The pain in his mangled ankles had him gasping for breath. He squinted at his surroundings. "About time," Jarib said from in front of him. He was seated in a chair casually, running his hands over the offending sledgehammer. "Are you up for some conversation?"

Tony glared, a flicker of fear running through him at the sight of the object in Jarib's hands. "Only if you're buying dinner," he said. His attempt at sarcasm failed miserably, his voice dry and cracked from screaming.

Jarib chuckled. "Well, that won't be happening, Mr. DiNozzo. You don't have much longer to live. Your condition is rapidly deteriorating as is, and if you aren't dead within the hour, I'll finish the job myself. You will not be leaving here alive, Mr. DiNozzo. You'd might as well make your final hour as painless as possible. Now, I need to know exactly what your team knows about my cousin and his organization."

Tony laughed darkly. "Hate to break it to you, but you're not getting shit out of me."

As Jarib began shaking his head, the door at the top of the stairs burst open, revealing the seething form of Aram Salir.

"Shit," Tony murmured.

Jarib's head shot up. He threw the hammer away and swiftly rushed up the stairs. Grabbing Salir's shoulders, he tried to push him back through the door, but Salir was relentless. He shoved Jarib's arms away and pushed past him, making his way furiously toward Tony.

Tony grinned cockily and looked at the bandaged cut on Salir's head. "My boss do that? Ouch."

Salir delivered a swift punch to Tony's face and shouted. "You bastard! You ruined everything!" He pulled back for another hit when a strong arm grabbed him around the chest.

"_Calm down, Aram_!" Jarib shouted in a foreign tongue. He violently dragged him up the stairs, throwing him through the doorway. Shouting to Tony from the top of the stairs, he said, "I must deal with my dear cousin now, but this conversation will continue when I return. You had best stay put. Not that you could go anywhere, by any means." He laughed cruelly. "In fact, I'm going to leave this door unlocked, so you can sit there as it mocks you. Have fun, Mr. DiNozzo. I'll be back."

Throwing one last sadistic smile over his shoulder, Jarib left, slamming the door behind him.

**. . .**

Tony held his breath and released it slowly. _I can do this_, he thought to himself. _Mind over matter. I can get out of this._

He gritted his teeth and placed his forearms on the ground, laying his body flat against the cool concrete. _Here we go._

With painstaking effort, Tony began an army crawl towards the stairs.

**. . .**

"We got a hit, Boss!" McGee shouted across the bullpen. "Berryville."

"That's about an hour out, let's go," Gibbs said.

_More like a half hour with Gibbs's driving_, McGee thought to himself.

Ziva tossed the keys to Gibbs and the three began sprinting to the stairwell. The elevator would take too long.

**. . .**

Tony bit back a cry as a sharp pang shot through his body. Looking carefully behind him, he took a shuddering breath. _Over halfway there…I can do this. Just gotta get to the top, open the door, and find a phone. Or if I have the energy, I'll just crawl out. Jarib said something about the neighbors. Maybe I could just scream…First things first. Get to the top._

He forced his trembling muscles to grip the next stair and push himself up. By now, his clothes (hospital scrubs…Apparently Jarib had changed him out of his gown, but he really didn't want to think about that) were soaked through with sweat. His tensed muscled were taut from exertion.

Breathing harshly, he continued his gradual ascent.

**. . .**

Gibbs picked up his ringing phone and tossed it to McGee in the passenger's seat. McGee reluctantly released his grip on the armrest and flipped the cell open.

"Hello?" he said, still trying to get a grip on something.

"What's your ETA?" Abby's voice said worriedly. "I've been reading up on this guy, and it's not good. You need to get to Tony soon."

"We're about 15 minutes out, Abs. We're going as fast as we can."

"Just hurry, Timmy. I have a bad feeling."

"Don't worry, we'll get him. Tony's gonna be fine. See you later, Abs."

McGee shut the phone, silently praying he hadn't just lied.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ziva stated confidently from the back seat, "He will be fine. We will get to him in time."

Unbeknownst to them, both Gibbs and McGee were thinking the same thing. _I hope she's right._

**. . .**

_This is it. I did it_, Tony thought triumphantly as he reached the top step. He was gasping for breath and every motion was agony, but the relief that flooded his system outweighed the physical pain. He gave himself a half-second rest, trying not to jostle his awkwardly splayed body.

_Here it goes_. Tony couldn't help the grin that touched his lips as he reached for the doorknob.

He twisted his wrist, waiting for the click of release from the handle.

It never came.

_No. Nononononono_. Tony stretched his body and gripped the metal with both hands, madly turning the handle back and forth, begging for some sort of heaven-sent phenomenon. Anything to make the handle give. _Please open…God, please open…_He desperately pleaded for a miracle.

That never came either.

The door was locked. No amount of cajoling would make it open. Jarib had lied. Tony had no doubt that he'd known Tony would try, and would take pleasure in the knowledge that he'd crushed his willpower.

"Lying bastard," Tony murmured bitterly. The helplessness in his voice overpowered the anger. Tony released all the tension in his muscles, allowing his body to flaccidly sink onto the stairs. The balance of his limp body sent him sliding pitifully down the expanse of steps.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tony knew that this couldn't be good for his already extensive injuries. But in that moment, he didn't care. A wave of hopelessness doused him, leaving behind a broken shell, crushed and cracked from the unforgiving current. It didn't matter. He wasn't getting out of it. He couldn't do this. He continued his painful descent, each step mocking him as it made contact with his taxed body. Every inch of his being screamed in protest, but still Tony couldn't find it in him to fight it. Every ounce of strength he had left, plus all the willpower in his heart had gotten him to the top of the stairs. When that option disappeared, so did all hope for escape. Exhaustion overtook his failing body, and he welcomed the dull numbness.

_It's over_, he thought dimly. _They win._

**. . .**

Gibbs pulled his gun as he rounded the side of the house. "Wait for my signal," Gibbs whispered to McGee. He nodded in response and the two crept through the back door.

Gibbs fought the urge to barge in and shoot every one of the men dead. Crouching against a wall, he took a deep breath. _We're coming, Tony. We've got you. They're not winning this battle._


	5. Chapter 5

**AN1: Sorry for the wait! (Insert excuse here). Enjoy this chap! I'm thinking one more after this to tie things up.**

**AN2: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! I haven't done a shout-out to my reviewers in a while, and after waiting so patiently (or not, I really don't know) I figure you guys deserve it. Thanks!**

**Shout-outs: **_**Writing For The Wall**__**, **__**Meilea2010**__**, **__**Tango Eight**__**, **__**BnBfanatic**__**, **__**anci2506**__**, **__**scousemuz1k**__**, **__**THelocker**__**, Reloader, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**combatcrazy**__**, **__**Tiffany331**__**, **__**julie250**__**, **__**sarahsrr**_

* * *

Jarib narrowed his eyes and straightened against the wall. "Shut up," he hissed to the two men sitting in the living room. The men immediately went silent, eyeing their boss questioningly. After a few seconds of silence, Jarib swore. "They are here," he said angrily. "You two stay. I will deal with DiNozzo." With that, he fled to the basement.

**. . .**

When he unlocked and opened the door to the basement, Jarib grinned. Tony was sprawled painfully at the bottom of the stairs, several new cuts and bruises evident on his limp and broken body. Jarib swiftly descended the stairs and stood in front of Tony, who just stared at him dully.

"Tut-tut, Mr. DiNozzo, what is this? Your boss is on his way here. We can't have you in a useless heap when he arrives. Let's try to keep up appearances, shall we?"

Tony's eyes came to life at the mention of Gibbs. _Boss? Here? Oh God, please be careful, Gibbs…_

Jarib began lifting Tony's deadweight, which was quite a chore. After a moment, he had Tony propped up in front of him, in the middle of the basement. His right hand was holding Tony tightly by the throat, while the left held a gun to Tony's head.

**. . .**

Gibbs and McGee swiftly and easily took down the two thugs in the house. Looking down at the two unconscious bodies, Gibbs said, "McGee, secure the perps and call an ambulance. I'm going to get DiNozzo."

McGee nodded and began moving the thugs. Then, he paused and turned around. "Boss?" he said cautiously.

Gibbs turned and raised his eyebrows. With a hard look, containing a strength that Gibbs had never seen from the Probie before, McGee said, "Be careful."

Gibbs nodded and made his way quietly to the basement door.

**. . .**

The first sight that greeted Gibbs was not a welcome one. Tony looked gaunt and ill, his weakened body peppered in cuts and bruises. Jarib was holding him tightly to his chest, gun pressed to Tony's temple. It seemed as though without Jarib's support, Tony would have already been in a heap on the floor. Gibbs rushed to the bottom of the stairs, gun trained on Jarib.

"Well, well, well, Agent Gibbs," Jarib said with a smile. "I wasn't expecting you here so soon. I had hoped to _deal_ with a few things before your arrival." He pressed the gun harder into Tony's head, gaining a low growl from the injured agent.

Gibbs tried to keep his calm. He could try to shoot Jarib, but odds were Jarib would pull the trigger, too. And that would result in something Gibbs would not even consider. So he waited. "You might as well let him go, Jarib. Your men have been incapacitated. You have no back-up. Giving yourself up is your best option."

Gibbs held his gun steady on Jarib, still unwilling to take the risky shot. Suddenly a voice from the top of the steps cried out desperately, "Shoot him, Jarib! Shoot him now!"

Gibbs whipped his head and gun around, finding the source of the outburst to be a very disheveled Aram Salir, unarmed, but trembling with anger.

Rushing down the stairs, mere feet from Gibbs, Salir continued, "Do not wait! Just kill him now, Jarib! _Kill him_!"

Gibbs glared at the man, poison in the icy blue. "I suggest you shut our mouth, Salir, or I might be tempted to shoot you along with your cousin."

"Go ahead," Jarib said casually, still holding Tony tightly. "It won't help your cause any. I'm not like my cousin, Agent Gibbs. I finish what I start. As you can see, I've already begun on your agent," He gestured toward Tony's maimed ankles. "Now it's time to finish the job."

Gibbs growled angrily. "What did you do to him?"

"Ah, simply guaranteed his captivity and eliminated his chance of escape," Jarib said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Through what method?" Gibbs said. The sight of Tony's feet hanging loosely from his legs, dangling grotesquely…It made Gibbs want to throw up. And he was no probie. But this wasn't some victim, some nameless Marine…this was Tony. Tony, who had been tortured mercilessly. Tony, who had nearly died more times in the last twenty-four hours than Gibbs could count. This was Tony. _His_ Tony. And it broke his heart.

Gibbs made a split decision. He closed the space between himself and Salir, roughly grabbing the man by the collar and shoving the gun against his head. He dragged him across the room, positioning himself and Salir so he could face the stairs and Jarib's back was to the steps.

"Tell me what else you did to him," Gibbs demanded, jabbing the gun against Salir's sensitive head wound. The man whimpered pathetically.

Jarib grinned evilly. "He may have taken a little tumble down the stairs."

Gibbs muttered, "You bastard" before turning his gaze to Tony. The hazel eyes were half-lidded, looking at Gibbs foggily.

"How you feeling, DiNozzo?" he asked concernedly, using his usual brusque tone to mask his worry.

Tony tried to clear his throat, only producing a small hack. "I'm feel'n p-peachy, Boss. How 'bout y'rself?"

Pride swelled in Gibbs's chest. Even through the slur, most likely brought on by another concussion, Tony was holding his own, managing to insert a cocky grin into his casual words. _Damn it, DiNozzo, one of these days, your head's just gonna burst._ As if reading Gibbs's mind, Tony continued blearily, "Ya think the doc'll count this as 'nother concuss'n or just the same one, ev'n worse?"

"Let's not worry about that now, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, fear tainting the strength in his voice. Turning back to Jarib, he said, "Hand him over and your cousin lives."

A deep chuckle erupted from Jarib's throat. "Agent Gibbs, perhaps I haven't been clear enough…I. Don't. Care."

Salir stopped squirming in Gibbs's grasp. "Jarib, surely you cannot..."

"The only reason-"

Jarib's heated response was interrupted by mumbling from Tony.

Gibbs frowned. "What's that, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked up, surprised. He hadn't realized he'd been speaking out loud. "Um, jus'… 'I am serious, 'n don' call me Sh'rley'…"

Gibbs rolled his eyes, having no clue what Tony was talking about.

Jarib continued what he was saying. "The only reason I came back here was to clean up the filthy mess you made of everything! You were always the problem child, and now you've ruined the family trade and brought shame to your name. You've become a liability, and I planned to do away with you as soon as your mess was cleaned up."

Salir's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. He shuffled his feet skittishly, at a loss for to respond.

Quickly glancing up at the stairs, Gibbs grinned slyly. "Well, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to cut this family therapy session short. You see, there was something I forgot to tell you about…Or rather, some_one_."

Jarib narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and opened his mouth to question Gibbs. Just then, a shot tore through his shoulder, and he fell to his knees with a cry of pain, clutching his shoulder. Without Jarib's support, Tony fell bonelessly to the ground with a muffled groan.

Ziva rushed down the stairs, shoving her smoking gun into its holster. Whipping out her handcuffs, she had Jarib cuffed in seconds. Gibbs did the same with Salir before rushing to Tony's side.

"Hey, DiNozzo. Come on, open your eyes. You know how I feel about sleeping on the job."

Tony blinked his eyelids sluggishly. "Y-You get 'im, Boss?" he questioned breathlessly. He swallowed down the nausea and pain fighting to overpower his senses.

"Ziva got him," Gibbs replied. "Now just hold on. McGee's called an ambulance, and it should be here any second."

Tony turned his head toward Ziva. "Nice j-job…n'nja chick."

Ziva glared down darkly at Jarib. "I would have liked to have killed him."

"Death is too easy for the bastard," Gibbs replied.

Tony's eyes began to slide closed. "Hey!" Gibbs said loudly, jostling Tony's shoulder. This elicited a hiss of pain from the nearly unconscious agent.

"Shit, was that the bad shoulder?" Gibbs asked with concern. Images of Tony flashed through his mind. Being beaten to a pulp, and then wrenched up violently by the shoulder, dislocating the joint with a pop, then slammed against a wall to relocate the joint. He fought down the urge to shoot someone, and settled on casting a hateful glance at Salir, who was rolling around on the ground, muttering inaudibly.

Tony gave a tight nod in response to Gibbs's question. "Sorry about that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said apologetically.

"'S ok," Tony said with an exhausted grin. "Woke me up, did'n it?"

Gibbs shook his head with a sad smile. At that moment, Jarib spat in Gibbs's direction and began ranting venomously.

"You stupid son of a bitch, this isn't over. This has only just begun, you'll see. I finish what I start. I always finish what I start, and your boy isn't safe, not for long. He's so much fun to torture, how can I stay away? I can't. And I won't. When he gasps in pain, it sends a shiver of pleasure up my spine, and when he screams…oh, when he screams, it's ecstasy. You should have seen it when I smashed up his frail little ankles. When I swung the sledgehammer around and crushed the bone and cartilage, ripped the tendons and ligaments, he screamed."

Jarib laughed deeply and hysterically. "The agony on his face was beautiful. I don't take much of what my cousin says at face value, but this—oh this—he was so right about it. Torturing your boy is like-"

The psychotic rambling was cut off when Gibbs's gun made swift contact with Jarib's head. The man instantly went limp.

Ziva grinned at Gibbs, who holstered the gun once more. Then, he drew his foot back mightily and, like a pendulum, slammed it into Jarib's side once, twice, three times.

Ziva raised her eyebrows at her Gibbs, who just shrugged and said simply, "Extra precaution."

A barrage of medical personnel and federal officers burst through the door. Fornell was leading the pack, gun drawn. After a few moments, the medical team was swarming Tony, and Fornell made his way over to where Gibbs was standing.

Gibbs heard one of the medics shouting facts out to the others.

"Victim is stable. Slight blood loss, clear damage to both left and right ankles, most likely multiple fractures and major ligament damage. Much superficial bruising and many contusions. Grade two to Grade three concussion. Let's get him loaded and start an IV drip."

Seeing that Tony was in no immediate danger, Gibbs turned his attention to Fornell, who was gazing down at Jarib.

"So what happened to this one?" Fornell questioned humorously, seeing not only the gunshot wound, but also the bleeding head and bruising abdomen.

Wanting to hop in the ambulance with Tony, Gibbs just smirked in response. "He resisted."


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Last chapter! Thanks for all the support. I really tried to make this sequel live up to the hype, even though my muse fought me the whole way. But I think it turned out all right. Please review and tell me what you thought of the story! **

**Shout-outs: **_**Meilea2010, **__**Rubywolf, diana teo, **__**Gaddkzmp**__**, **__**TinTin11**__**, **__**combatcrazy**__**, Tiffany331, **__**Tango Eight**_

* * *

"Agent DiNozzo is out of surgery, and the anesthesia should wear off in a few minutes. He's allowed visitors, but don't overwhelm him. He needs rest for his body to recover. He's in Room 14," the doctor said kindly. Gibbs, Abby, McGee, and Ziva all breathed a sigh of relief before heading down the hall. Ducky lingered behind to discuss Tony's condition in more detail with the doctor.

Sprinting ahead of the others, Abby rushed down the hallway into Tony's room.

Tony was laying still, the only movement being the small rise and fall of his battered chest. Both his ankles had been repaired in surgery, and were now casted and propped up on a few pillows, poking out from beneath the white sheet.

Careful to avoid his many injuries, Abby crawled in bed next to him, and began her regretful apology.

"Oh, Tony, I'm so sorry. I was right here, right next to you, and let that jerk take you away. I looked him right in the eye! You'd think he would have this sinister gleam or something, like in the movies, but he didn't. He looked nothing like Hans Gruber or Alex DeLarge or any of the classic bad guys!" Abby cried, expecting Tony to be only half-conscious. "I'm sorry, Tony," she whispered.

"It's fine, Abs. I know what you mean," a voice said groggily. Abby's eyes widened in surprise. "He had more of a Verbal Kint vibe. Didn't know he was bad until he wanted us to know."

McGee strolled in behind Abby, followed by Ziva. Grinning kindly at his friend, he said, "Ok, I only got one of those references. Yes, I know I'm not as cultured as you. Explain, please?"

Tony opened his mouth to begin, but Abby cut him off. "You, shush. You need to rest." Then, tuning to McGee, she continued. "Hans Gruber was the villain from Die Hard. Alex DeLarge was the villain from A Clockwork Orange. And Verbal Kint-"

"A.K.A. Keyser Söze, is the stutterer-turned-conman from The Usual Suspects," McGee finished proudly.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "McKind-of-cultured! I'm impressed!" His voice was scratchy and raw, but everyone was grateful just to be hearing it at all.

McGee shrugged, still smiling. "I did my homework."

"Think you can help me out here?" Tony asked, embarrassment tingeing his bruised cheeks. "Sitting up makes me feel like I have more of an advantage." Abby reached around the side of the bed and held down the button which inclined the bed. They all noticed how Tony held his breath at the movement, and let it out shakily when the motion stopped.

"So, what's the verdict?" Tony asked with good-natured impatience. He tried to shift in the bed, but fell back with a wince of pain. Abby frowned and rubbed his arm comfortingly. Tony continued, his question coming out much weaker than he would've like. "Can I leave yet?"

Gibbs, who'd entered the room unannounced as usual, snorted.

"Tony, you just woke up," McGee said incredulously. "You were nearly _beaten, electrocuted_, and _stabbed_ to death, then _kidnapped_ from the hospital and roughed up some _more_. You were rushed into surgery, which you just got out of, and you haven't even heard what's wrong with you! You'll be lucky if they let you leave in the next week!"

Tony sighed. "Chillax, Probie. I was just asking," he said quietly. There was a short silence in which everyone just stood, examining their friend. Tony broke the awkwardness with a soft inquiry. "What exactly am I in here for anyways? Well, besides the obvious," he stated, gesturing toward his heavily casted lower legs. Looking at them brought a shadow of pain to his eye, but he blinked away the unpleasant memory and waited for an answer.

"Well, my dear boy, it's quite the list," Ducky said, walking into the room with a smile. "Where would you like me to start?"

Tony considered this for a moment before answering, "Let's go top to bottom."

Ducky chuckled. "Top to bottom it is…As far as the concussion you already had, you've managed to up it from Grade 2 to Grade 3. That should heal up with time, as you already know from experience. Your face is still bruised, more so than it was when you were last here. But being the lucky lad you are, you sustained no fractures to either the jaw or cheekbones. You also have extensive bruising on your torso and abdomen, some of which was bone deep. This isn't inconsistent with a fall down a flight of stairs, but it will be painful for quite some time. And in addition to the 3 broken ribs you already had, you've managed to crack 2 more in your tumble.

"Now, your knife wound was slightly infected, which caused a low grade fever. They've put you on antibiotics, which should clear up the infection in the next few days. But they'll be checking it periodically after that to be certain. You had a hairline fracture on your left hipbone, but it was very small, so that shouldn't bother you too much. Your legs from hip to lower calf, while severely bruised, are relatively unharmed. Which brings us to the bottom…"

Tony grimaced and took a deep breath. Ducky continued sympathetically.

"There was severe damage to both ankles, as I'm sure you know. How you managed to climb those stairs is a great wonder. You see, you have not only multiple fractures on both, but also immense ligament and tendon damage. The talented surgeons spent a few hours pinning the joints back together and repairing the damage best they could. The injuries were not an easy to fix, but the doctors believe you'll regain full mobility, albeit with months of physical therapy."

Tony allowed relief to seep into his system. "So…I'm gonna be ok? One-hundred percent?"

Ducky smiled. "If you don't rush things and obey your limits, you should be just fine, my boy."

Tony put his hands casually behind his head. "That's great news. I'll be back to work in no time!" Tony said with a triumphant grin.

"Think again, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled. "You're staying on sick leave until I see fit. And until then, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Boss, surely you can't be-" Tony began indignantly.

"I am serious," Gibbs said sternly. Then, with a smile, he added, "And don't call me Shirley."

Tony's grin widened. "Boss! I had no idea you'd seen Airplane!"

"Haven't," Gibbs replied. "But it's amazing the things you can learn from a concussed agent." Tony inwardly groaned.

The group talked and laughed for a while, all immensely grateful for the normalcy.

**. . .**

"Boss?" Tony rasped quietly. It was late at night, and Gibbs was seated in the chair beside Tony. The others had gone home hours ago, and Gibbs had hoped Tony was sleeping.

"Yeah, Tony?" Gibbs said gently, blue eyes catching Tony's in a concerned gaze. The hazel was sparkling with unshed tears.

After a few seconds, voice thick with emotion, Tony replied quietly, "Thank you."

Gibbs smiled softly, and reached out to ruffle Tony's hair. "My pleasure, DiNozzo. Just wish I could have gotten to you sooner."

"Not your fault," Tony murmured. He blinked away the moisture in his eyes. "You think I'm gonna be ok?" He asked, utterly vulnerable.

Gibbs held his gaze for a moment before firmly replying, "I know you will be."

"Th'nks, Bosss," Tony slurred, sleep luring him in.

"Rest up, Tony. I got your six."

And with that, Tony's eyes slid closed and he fell into a peaceful, uninterrupted slumber.

Gibbs watched his agent through admiring eyes, knowing he'd be ok. They all would be. _Just another roadblock_, Gibbs thought to himself. He leaned back comfortably, content in the fact that his agent had fought through and survived another day. With a last long look at the sleeping man, Gibbs made a silent promise. To his agent and to himself. _That's the last time I let you get caught in the middle. I've got your six, Tony. Always._

In his deep slumber, a soft smile graced Tony's lips. Even in sleep…he knew.


End file.
